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74. Complainte de Gransson
Je souloye de mes yeulx avoir joie.
En mon parler souvent me deduisoye,
Et voulentiers les autres escoutoye.
Mais en presant
Je ne sui liez de chose que je voye
Ne conforté de nouvelle que j’oye,
Et le parler de riens ne me resjoye,
Car vrayement,
Mes paroles et mon entendement
Et mes regars sont de tel sentement
Que se vivre vouloye liement,
Je ne porroye.
Mais suis si long de tout esbatement
Que point n’en ay, ne mon cuer ne s’entent
Fors en penser. C’est mon soustenement,
Ou que je soye.
Se Doulz Penser ne m’estoit en aye
Sur la voye que j’ay encommencie,
Je seroye mort de merancolie
Doresenavant.
Car Plaisance demourra endormie
Et Leesce s’en estoit ja fouye
Quant je lessay la belle, jeune, lie
Que j’aime tant.
La se parti de moy mon cuer, plourant,
Et me laissa pour ma dame plaisant,
Car il est sien et sera son servant
Toute ma vie.
Je pris congie de ce tresdoulz enfant
Les yeulx moilliez et la bouche riant,
Par semblant liez et de cuer bien doulant,
Ce vous affie.
Au departir de ma dame sens per,
Convient mon cuer tendrement souspirer,
Le corps fremir, et les membres trambler,
Et de doulour,
Perdy souvent ma bouche le parler,
Et mes jambes ne savoient aler.
Il n’est nul homme qui peust endurer
Telle languour,
Se ce n’estoit par grant fors d’amour,
Car je senti, plus de cent fois le jour,
Mon corps tout froit, sans sang et sans vigour,
Par trop amer.
Puis me prenoit une si grant chalour
Que tout le corps m’embrasoit de l’ardour.
Je ne cuiday de ce mal par nul tour
Vif eschaper.
Bien sçay que mort feusse, sans doubtance,
Se n’eust esté la droite soustenance
De mon penser, qui me fist alegance.
Car sans mentir,
Mon cuer, mon bien, ma joye, ma plaisance,
Tout mon confort et toute m’esperance
N’orent depuis voulenté ne puissance
De moy servir.
Mais les senti de mon cuer departir
Quant je me vouls de ma dame partir.
Onques n’en peus un tout seul retenir,
Et par samblance
Ne leur chaloit de moy veoir languir.
Ainsi me fault, jusques au revenir,
Ma grief dolour porter et soustenir
Et ma grevance.
En grant plaisance vit qui est bien aise
Et qui souvent voit chose qui lui plaise.
Mais se ne suis je pas, qui mon cuer lesse
Darriere moy,
Et si m’en vois, commant qu’il me desplaise,
Ne ne voy riens qui ma doulour apaise;
Ainçois convient que de mon mal me taise.
Savez pourquoy?
Car les autres qui sont en esbanoy
N’acontent riens en trestout mon annoy,
Et leur deduit le mal que je resçoy
De riens n’abaise.
Ainçois me croist par leur joyeux arroy
Quant je suis la ou ma dame ne voy,
Et m’est advis que riens avoir ne doy
Fors que desaise.
Lointain de moy, en estrange contree,
Laisse mon cuer, ma joye, et ma pensee,
Ou service de la plus belle nee,
A droit jugier,
De la meilleur et la mieulx renommee
Qui soit entre ciel et rousee,
Et je m’en vois, blasmant ma destinee,
Quant eslongnier
Me fault son corps qui a mon cuer entier.
Ne je ne puis vivre sens son dangier.
Dont me doit bien tendrement ennuyer
La dessevree.
Si fait il voir, se riens m’y puet aidier,
Bien deveroye le retour souhaidier,
Car a mon cuer fauldra comparer chier
Ma demouree.
En mon dormant n’ay que traveil et paine,
Et a mengier ne treuve viande saine,
Et puis les nuys m’est la teste si vaine
Qu’il m’est advis,
Par mes songes, comme chose certaine,
Que je voye ma dame souveraine.
Elas, non fais; elle m’est trop lointaine,
Dont je vauls pis.
Je n’en congnois ne mes fais ne mes dis,
Car mes pensers sont en elle tousdis,
Et la beauté de son gracieux vis
A ce me maine:
Que quant je doy eslongnier le pais
Mon corps se part et mon cuer revient, pris.
Ce fait Amours, qui de tous poins m’a mis
En son demaine.
Nulle chose ne me puet a droit plaire
Quant je ne voy le gracieux viaire
De la belle plaisant et debonnaire
Que chascun prise.
C’est ma dame, ou tout honneur repaire,
A qui bien siet tout ce qu’elle veult faire,
Et tous ces fais fait a bonne fin traire,
La bien aprise.
En son cuer n’a que bonté, franchise,
Et Dieu y a si haulte grace mise
Que loyauté a en son cuer assise
Pour tout parfaire.
De bel atour fait de nouvelle guise,
Bien paraissant, et de bonne devise.
Ne s’est nulle des autres a lui prise,
Sans contrefaire.
Tant est plaisant a veoir sa jeunesse
Et en ses fais a tant de gentillesse
Qu’il n’est nul cuer si chargé de tristesse,
Se il congnoist
Sa grant valour et sa haulte noblesse,
Sa grant bonté et sa tresgrant humblesse,
Que tost ne soit tournee en leesse
Quant il la voit.
Nulz homs assez prisier ne la porroit,
Ne sa beaulté deviser ne saroit,
Ne nul des siens jamais plaindre ne doit
Riens qui le blesse.
Car c’est celle qui tout scet et congnoist
Et tous ses fais clerement apperçoit.
Quant riens y a qui bien seant n’y soit,
Tantost l’adresse.
Onques ne vy certes, a dire voir,
D’un foible corps yssir si grant povoir,
Ne d’un jouvent monstrer si grant savoir,
Comme fait celle
A qui mercy je desir main et soir,
Car seulement pour ses beaulx yeulx movoir,
Fait son doulz cuer paour au mien avoir,
Et doubte d’elle,
Et non pas pour force qui soit en elle.
Mais je la say si plaisant et si belle
Que chascun doit doubter et amer telle
D’umble vouloir.
Et je le fais. En tesmoing en appelle
Le Dieu d’Amours, qui bien scet ma querelle
Et qui tousdiz mon desir renouvelle
De lui veoir.
Voire, pardieu, a veoir la desire
Tant que souffrir me convient grief martire,
Et par souffrir cuide je desconfire
Les mauls que j’ay.
Mais mon pouoir ne puet a ce souffire,
Car quant je voy les gens juer et rire,
Mon cuer s’en plaint et mon corps en souspire.
Certes bien sçay
Que par nul tour jamais joye n’aray
Jusques a tant que ma dame verray.
Le departir m’a mis en tel esmay
Et tant m’empire,
Que nul confort en ma vie ne sçay
Fors de penser comment tost revendray,
Et entre deux, ne sçay que je porray
Faire ne dire.
Tout le dangier et toute la durté
Que j’ay au cuer de ma dame trouvé
Ne le reffus qu’elle ma monstré,
Ce sache dieux,
Ne m’ont tant fait d’annuy et de griefté
Ne tant mon corps empiré ne grevé
Comme le temps depuis que j’ay esté
Loing de ses yeulx,
Car de veoir son gent corps gracieux,
Maugre Dangier, devenoye joyeux,
Et tous mes maulz en passoye trop mieulx
Pour sa beauté.
Or la gart dieux du mal Saint Encombreux
Et du dengier des jeunes et des vieux,
Et de tous cuers qui seront envieux
Sur sa bonté.
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74. Granson’s Complaint
I used to have joy from my eyes.
Speaking often used to give me pleasure,
And willingly would I listen to others.
But now
I am not happy with anything I see
Nor comforted by any news I hear,
And conversation doesn’t cheer me up,
For truly,
My words and my understanding
And my looks are of such sentiment
That if I wished to live happily,
I couldn’t.
But I am so far from every pleasure
That I have none, nor is my heart inclined
Except to thought. That is my sustenance,
Wherever I am.
If Sweet Thought were not a help to me
On the course that I have undertaken,
I would be dead of melancholy
From the start.
For Pleasure remained asleep
And Happiness had already fled
When I left the beautiful, young, happy lady
Whom I love so much.
There my heart departed from me, weeping,
And left me for my charming lady,
For it is hers and will remain her servant
All my life.
I took my leave of this very sweet child
With eyes wet and with laughing mouth,
Happy in appearance but deeply grieved in heart,
I swear to you.
On departing from my lady without peer,
My heart was forced to sigh tenderly,
My body to shake, and my limbs to tremble,
And out of grief,
My mouth often lost its speech,
And my legs were unable to walk.
There is no man who could endure
Such sorrow,
If it weren’t for the great power of love,
For I felt, more than a hundred times a day,
My body completely cold, without blood and strength,
For loving greatly.
Then so great a heat took hold of me
That it burned my entire body with its flame.
I didn’t expect from this pain by any means
To escape alive.
I know well that I’d be dead, without a doubt,
If it had not been for the direct support
Of my thought, which gave me relief.
For without lying,
My heart, my well-being, my joy, my pleasure,
All my comfort and all my hope
Have not since had the will or power
To serve me.
Rather I felt them leave my heart
When I wished to depart from my lady.
I could not retain a single one of them,
And it appeared
It didn’t matter to them to see me languish.
Thus until my return, I must
Bear and endure my grievous sorrow
And my pain.
He lives in great pleasure who is well at ease
And who often sees the thing that pleases him.
But this is not I, who leave my heart
Behind me,
And yet I go, however it displease me,
Nor do I see anything to appease my sorrow;
Instead I must remain silent about my pain.
Do you know why?
For the others who are in joy
Take no account at all of all my torment,
And their amusement does not lessen at all
The pain I feel.
Instead it increases because of their joyous conduct
When I am where I do not see my lady,
And it seems to me that I am to have nothing
Except distress.
Far from me, in a foreign country,
I leave my heart, my joy, and my thought,
In the service of the most beautiful one ever born,
To judge rightly,
The best and the one of the highest repute
Who now is between heaven and the dew,
And I depart, blaming my destiny,
When I must
Depart from the one who possesses my entire heart.
Nor can I live without being in her power.
Therefore well ought to pain me tenderly
The separation.
Thus it is true, if nothing can help me,
Well should I wish for my return,
Because my heart will have to pay dearly
My absence.
In sleeping, all I have is torment and pain,
And at meals I don’t find the food healthy,
And then at night my head is so weak
That it seems to me,
In my dreams, as if it were real,
That I see my sovereign lady.
Alas, I don’t; she is too far from me,
Thus I fare worse.
I don’t know my own actions or my words,
For my thoughts are constantly upon her,
And the beauty of her gracious face
Leads me to this:
That when I must depart the country,
My body leaves and my heart returns, captured.
Love does this, who in every way has put me
In his power.
Nothing can truly please me
When I do not see the gracious face
Of the charming and courteous beauty
Whom all admire.
That is my lady, in whom all honor resides,
To whom is well suited all that she wishes to do,
And she makes all that she does result in good,
The accomplished one.
In her heart there is only goodness, nobility,
And God has placed there so high a grace
That he has set Loyalty in her heart
To make all perfect.
She decks herself out according to fashion,
Judging well, and with good discernment.
No other woman is admired as much as she,
Without pretending.
Her youthfulness is so pleasing to see
And in her deeds there is so much graciousness
That there is no heart so burdened with sadness,
If it knows
Her great worth and her great nobility,
Her great goodness and her great humility,
That it is not soon restored to joy
When it sees her.
No man could admire her enough,
Nor could he describe her beauty,
Nor should any of her followers ever complain
Of any harm.
For she is the one who knows and understands all
And who clearly discerns all of her own actions.
Whenever there is something that is not fitting,
She immediately addresses it.
Certainly I never saw, to tell the truth,
So great a power come from a feeble body,
Nor such great wisdom shown by a youth,
As does she
Whose mercy I desire morning and evening,
For only by moving her fair eyes,
Her gentle heart causes mine to fear,
And I dread her,
And not by any strength that is in her.
But I know her to be so charming and so beautiful
That everyone ought to fear and love such a one
With humble will.
And so I do. As witness to which, I call upon
The God of Love, who well knows my case
And who constantly renews my desire
To see her.
Truly, by God, I desire to see her
So much that I must endure harsh suffering,
And by suffering I expect to overcome
My pains.
But my power cannot suffice for this,
For when I see the people play and laugh,
My heart complains and my body sighs.
Surely I know well
That in no way will I ever have joy
Until the time that I see my lady.
The separation has put me in such distress
And hurts me so much
That I don’t know any comfort in my life
Except to think how I will soon return,
And in the meantime, I don’t know what I will be able
To do or say.
All the disdain and all the harshness
That I have found in my lady’s heart
And the rejection that she has offered me,
May God know,
Have not caused me as much pain and grief
Nor harmed or injured me as much
As has the time since I have been
Far from her eyes,
For to see her noble gracious self,
Despite Danger, I used to become joyful,
And I would endure much better all my pains
Because of her beauty.
Now may God protect her from the evil Saint Vexation
And from the oppression of both young and old,
And from all hearts who will be envious
Of her goodness.
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